


Number Nine Chorus

by Lady_Ganesh



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Sex, Christmas Date, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 17:00:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13299240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Ganesh/pseuds/Lady_Ganesh
Summary: Yuuri Christmas dates theheckout of Victor.





	Number Nine Chorus

The Katsuki family usually made him feel special when he visited, but today--the first time since they'd all met that his birthday fell between competitions, so that he and Yuuri could come to Hatsetsu to celebrate--was something else. 

At lunch, Hiroko served him katsudon and ika no ikizukuri, and a Christmas cake topped with fresh strawberries and an enormous sugar Santa Claus. Toshiya even came out from the kitchen for a bit to sing “Happy Birthday” and watch him open his presents. There was a beautiful wool scarf from Yuuri's sister, and Yuuri's parents gave him a tie pin engraved with what Yuuri explained was the kanji for _victory._

Then Yuuri disappeared to change, told Victor to wear something ‘nice,’ and dragged him onto the train and took him shopping in Fukuoka. After that, a temple visit, and dinner at a beautiful French restaurant where Yuuri had reserved a table by the window so Victor could watch the city pass by. 

"How far ahead did you plan this?" Victor asked. Victor had heard Christmas eve was more traditionally the night for a romantic date, but the place was still booked solid.

Yuuri just shrugged, his face reddening, and Victor left it as it was.

The food was excellent, in that slightly-unfamiliar way another country's take on food you knew well always was. Better was Yuuri's sweetness, the little touches on Victor’s hand, the way he worried his lower lip with his teeth before every first bite, as if Victor would reject _anything_ Yuuri gave him. He was so much more confident than he had been when they first met, but sometimes the nervousness still came back. Victor liked the change in Yuuri, of course he did, but there was a little part of him that remembered when everything between them was so new. A little part of him that thrilled to have Yuuri excited and eager to please him, even after more than two years of working together, more than two years of _being_ together.

It probably wasn't fair of Victor, but it _was_ his birthday, so he allowed himself the indulgence.

"Did you want dessert?" Yuuri asked.

Victor looked at him. Yuuri was wearing the solid blue Hermès tie that Victor had given him after the Barcelona GPF, a blue-and-white striped shirt, a suit that rested on him like a second skin. "No," he said. His diet plan aside, what he really wanted was to be alone with Yuuri for a little while. Having to wait while they took the train back to Hatsetsu would be bad enough.

To his surprise, Yuuri took his hand as they left the restaurant; it was rare for him to be so demonstrative in Japan. To his further surprise, Yuuri led him past the train station and toward a hotel.

"Yuuri?"

"It's your birthday," Yuuri said, and squeezed his hand. "I wanted to do something special."

"You didn't need to do all this," Victor said.

"I wanted to," Yuuri said, and pulled him through the doors.

"But I don't even have a suitcase," Victor complained, out of habit, as Yuuri marched them to the desk, waved his ID at a clerk, and dragged Victor to the elevator.

"Victor," Yuuri said, as the elevator doors closed. "Are you really complaining that I surprised you?"

Victor loved the wicked look that lit Yuuri’s eyes. "No," he said. "I'm not."

"Good," Yuuri said, and threw his arms around Victor, pulling him close. Victor nibbled at his neck, and Yuuri's hands slid into Victor's jacket. 

One of these days, Victor was going to take Yuuri to a high-rise, get him alone in the elevator, and see how far they could go.

As it was, when they stepped onto their floor, Yuuri had Victor's tie folded over his hand and a look on his face that was just short of smug.

 _I can't believe how much I love you,_ Victor thought.

Fortunately, their room wasn't far from the elevator. He let Yuuri pull his clothes off, guide him to the mattress. It was only when he was there, his back already on the duvet and Yuuri carefully putting his glasses on the nightstand, that Victor realized that a very familiar shirt and pair of pants were hanging on the wardrobe door. "Yuuri?"

Yuuri smiled. "I sent a few things ahead," he said, wickedly. "I hope you don't mind."

"Yuuri--" But by then, Yuuri was on him, spreading his legs wide, sliding slick fingers in him and murmuring the filthiest English dirty talk Victor had ever heard in his _life,_ things that Victor still couldn't quite understand. Not when his cock was painfully stiff and Yuuri was doing things with his body that made Victor want to shout, scream, demand that the world recognize how beautiful and perfect and wonderful this man was, how lucky he was that Yuuri was here, was _his._

"Good?" Yuuri asked, when he had Victor panting and moaning and too overcome even to beg.

Victor nodded. 

Yuuri smiled and bent Victor's knees up. "Ready?"

Victor nodded again, eager, _wanting._

It was the same as every time, different every time, perfect, Yuuri filling him, _driving_ into him, and Victor had to close his eyes so he wouldn't be too overwhelmed, fall too far. Yuuri's arms held him steady as he moved, and he kept talking, Japanese, snatches of English, Russian, but now his language was softer, warmer. _You look so beautiful, perfect, perfect._

Victor pushed back against him, wanting, needing more, and Yuuri gave, and gave, and finally leaned over his body and whispered, softly into his ear: "Victor. Vitya--"

Victor tried to ask _what,_ but couldn’t; the only sound he managed was a needy little whine.

"Let's get married," Yuuri said, and Victor came and came and came.

He felt Yuuri's release through his own shuddering aftershocks, but none of that compared to Yuuri's voice still echoing in his brain: _Let's get married._

"Yuuri," he said, when he could breathe again. "Yuuri, please. Let's get married." He reached up and stroked Yuuri's face, felt Yuuri turning into his touch. "We don't have to wait. I don’t care about medals. I don't even know why I said that, I--"

Yuuri cut him off with a kiss, with half a dozen kisses. "Okay," he said, into Victor's neck, pressing yet another kiss there. "Okay."

"I love you so much," he said.

Yuuri collapsed into him. "You need a shower," he said, his voice soft and unfocused as always after sex. "I need a shower." He nuzzled closer to Victor, instead. Victor had wondered if the stories about Japanese men wanting showers before and after sex were true, but if it was true for Yuuri, Detroit seemed to have broken that habit. Either that or the power of love kept him in bed.

Victor was just happy that Yuuri remained in his arms as his breath evened out and his weight settled against Victor's. He kissed Yuuri’s hair. "Do you want to get married in Hatsetsu?"

"I don't mind," Yuuri said. "If you want to get married in St. Petersburg. Japan…we'll have to have a party in Hatsetsu, but I don't think anyone will care that much about the wedding."

"Okay," Victor said. It was probably not the right time to tell Yuuri that he'd looked to see if they'd get in legal trouble if they performed a marriage ceremony in both countries. "I don't...have family like you do, but I still--I think I'd like to." It wasn’t like he had a church, but Mila and Georgi would have ideas. He could ask them.

"You have Yakov, too," Yuuri said. "And everyone at the rink. They’ll want to come."

Yuuri was so careful to not ask him about family, about his life before skating. Yuuri had thanked Victor once for meeting him halfway, but Victor wondered if Yuuri realized that he'd always extended Victor the same care. Yuuri would probably happily go to his grave never knowing why Victor wouldn't talk about his family or his childhood.

Victor loved him for that, too.

Tonight was too precious for his unhappy memories, but he'd have to share them soon enough. Yuuri deserved the truth, and Victor never knew when a reporter would go digging and come around asking all the wrong questions. He’d put it off for too long. Yuuri would understand, though. He always did. He understood things Victor needed sometimes before Victor even knew.

"This was a Christmas date, wasn’t it?" he asked. "I--I'm so used to Christmas being in the new year, and we never really celebrated, anyway."

"I know," Yuuri said. "But it's your birthday, and--I wanted to do something romantic." He rolled from Victor's chest, stretched a little. "And my father--" He passed his hands over his face and yawned. "He told me you'd waited long enough, and I shouldn't let you get away."

 _He had?_ Victor felt something in his chest tighten. "I'm not going anywhere," he said.

"He was still right," Yuuri said. 

"What do you have planned for tomorrow?" Victor asked. "Or is that another surprise?"

"Not much," he said. "You can tell me what you want to do. And we'd probably better get back to Hatsetsu in the afternoon so we can practice. Your coach will never forgive me if you start slacking off. Mine won’t, either."

Victor sat up, his body telling him exactly how long he'd stayed in one position and _exactly_ what Yuuri had done to him, in case he'd forgotten. "I need to wash up," he said, and kissed Yuuri's cheek. "When I come back, you're going to tell me all about Japanese weddings."

"Of course," Yuuri said fondly. “Happy birthday.”

He was half-asleep when Victor came back to bed, not waking even when Victor slid the washcloth over him and his cock stiffened at the touch. Victor dropped it on the carpet when he was done, hoping the staff would forgive him for not wanting to leave Yuuri. He pulled the pillow under his head, spooning Yuuri from behind, like they did at home.

He put his right hand over Yuuri's, ring over ring, and closed his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> "Number Nine Chorus" is a reference to [Ode to Joy](https://www.whychristmas.com/cultures/japan.shtml) being traditionally sung in Japan around Christmas.
> 
> Also I'm so mad I didn't get this finished for Christmas. Think of it as being super-early for Christmas 2018.


End file.
